


Chapter 5: A Booty Call

by dc_comic_girl



Series: The Story of Mickey Milkovich [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Gallavich, M/M, POV Mickey, POV Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 10:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dc_comic_girl/pseuds/dc_comic_girl
Summary: Mickey is pretty sure that if it's just sex, it doesn't mean anything.





	Chapter 5: A Booty Call

**Author's Note:**

> Same as previous chapters: I don't own these characters or the dialog taken from the show. All rights to the creators.
> 
> On a personal note I was suffering a depressive episode for most of this past week and weekend, so I personally don't believe that this is my best chapter, because it has been pretty hard to find the energy to get up and do anything. I had to power through because I already have some chapters written from down the line and wanted to get this one done first so I can start publishing them. I appreciate if you bare with me and don't judge me solely by my most recent work. Maybe some day I will come back and edit this chapter some, but for now it is included for completeness.
> 
> I am incredibly appreciative to anyone who has taken the time to read my fic so far. I hope not to let you down.

It had been stupid.

Really fuckin’ stupid.

It had only been two days since Mickey fucked Ian Gallagher, but it felt like it had been a goddamn year. Time was funny that way when you were holding your breath and waiting for your father to beat you to death with a crowbar in you sleep.

Of all the people in fucking Chicago that Mickey could have banged, he banged a _Gallagher_. A Gallagher, no less, who was _dating his **fuckin’** baby sister_. He knew none of those fuckin’ micks could keep their mouths shut unless you stapled their fuckin’ lips together – maybe not even then. And he had fucked the one who had Mandy hanging off him every second of every goddamn day?

Really, really fuckin’ stupid.

Pretty quickly after it happened, the relief Mickey felt over Ian not saying anything to Terry had quickly been replaced by certainty that Ian “sweet-as-pie-couldn’t-tell-a-lie-gun-to-his-fuckin’-head” Gallagher would definitely tell Mandy, who may just be heartbroken enough to tell Terry herself. The whole situation made Mickey sick to his stomach, and if he thought about it too hard, he felt like his chest was tightening – like he was having a fuckin’ heart attack or a stroke or something.

It had been pretty easy to avoid Mandy for the past two days. On the best day in the Milkovich house, the most communication between habitants was a couple nuanced grunts or insults, so Mickey figured it wouldn’t seem too out of the ordinary if he holed up in his room while he waited out the inevitable storm.

By Friday afternoon, it still hadn’t come.

Supplies had been running low for some time and Mickey realized that at some point or another he would have to venture out and rejoin the household, if only to grab a beer and some chicken nuggets. From within his room he couldn’t hear yelling or breaking of glass, which was a pretty good indication that Terry wasn’t home, so Mickey figured that no matter what Ian had told Mandy, this was probably the safest time for a recon mission.

Mickey opened his door and, with as much fake confidence as he could muster, walked into the kitchen.

He had been right that Terry wasn’t home. Mandy was sitting alone at the kitchen table with scissors and a glue stick, a stupid grin on her face. She looked up when she saw Mickey but said nothing and went back to work.

Mickey walked past her to get to the fridge and stole a glance at what she was working on. Lying in front of Mandy were over a dozen pictures of her and Ian and a couple of ripped movie tickets.

“The fuck’s that?” Mickey asked, opening a beer and nodding in the direction of Mandy’s special project.

“Just a scrapbook thing for my wall,” she replied, without looking up from the table. “Isn’t this cute?”

Mandy held up a thin strip of four pictures in a row, each with her and Ian making different faces – crossing their eyes, sticking out their tongues, even one where Mandy was kissing Ian on the cheek.

“Adorable,” Mickey muttered, rummaging through a cupboard.

“We went to a mall on the north side during third period today and took them,” Mandy said, though Mickey realized she was talking to herself more than to him. She had the same dreamy look on her face that she seemed to get every time Ian was around. Mickey felt his chest tighten again, but this time with guilt.

“Where’s Terry?” Mickey asked, needing to change the subject away from Ian Gallagher.

Mandy shrugged. “Bar I think? Haven’t seen him all day.”

Mickey nodded, and headed for the door, grabbing his coat and scarf off the living room couch.

“Where you going?” Mandy called after him.

“Out.”

  

* * *

 

 

Mickey needed to be out of that house. He needed to think.

Okay, so Ian hadn’t said anything to Mandy. It didn’t mean he _wouldn’t_. He needed to make sure that the kid wouldn’t tell his sister or anyone else, but how? He felt his pace quicken, though he didn’t exactly know where he was going.

 _Maybe he’s smart enough to just forget it ever happened,_ he found himself thinking, hopeful. The kid didn’t seem dumb, and he definitely talked less than Lip. _Maybe he realizes that’s the safest thing to do for both of us._

Was he really willing to bet his life on that, though? Maybe the best solution was to just kill-

_No._

Ian can’t tell anyone else if he’s de-

**_NO._ **

Mickey stopped walking abruptly. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why should he give a shit if Gallagher dies? The kid was a fag. And the world would be a goddamn better place if all those queers dropped dead.

So why did his body fuckin’ seize every time he even tried to explore the option?

 _Mandy cares about him,_ he reminded himself. _That’s the only reason you care._

The explanation was unsatisfactory, but better than exploring the alternatives, Mickey decided. He looked up and across the road. It seemed, in his anxious haze, he had walked all the way to the Kash and Grab.

At that moment the door to the store opened, and Mickey saw Kash and his wife bustling out of the store, clearly unhappy, as the bitch seemed to be wagging a finger and yelling at her husband. The couple got into their van and drove down the road, her yelling the entire time.

Mickey followed the van with his eyes for a minute, before turning back to the store. The paki hadn’t locked up. That meant someone else would have to be running the store.

Mickey had been so busy worrying about what would happen when Terry finally found out, that he hadn’t really had time to explore the implications of the fact that he had let a boy stick his cock up Mickey’s ass. He worried if he thought too hard about what this meant, what it _made_ him, his head might explode.

That wasn’t to say he hadn’t thought about it. Truth be told, Mickey had thought of very little else in the past couple days. Locked in his room, avoiding his family, Mickey didn’t have a lot to do but think, and as much as he hated himself, he kept replaying how it felt to have Ian inside him.

He lay in his bed, stroking himself and thinking about what it felt like have Ian’s sweaty body pressed against his back. He was pretty sure that for a few minutes he had felt happy, or at least content. He couldn’t remember feeling that way before. Not when he was fucking some hood girl. Not when he was beating a kid senseless. Never. And every time he’d climax thinking about it, he’d hate himself a little more – more still when he realized he didn’t really want to stop.   

Mickey scrubbed a hand across the side of his face, staring at the Kash and Grab. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to stop thinking about it – he wanted Gallagher on him again. What the hell kinda flood gate had he opened?

He briskly walked across the road, operating on pure impulse, before he could stop himself.

He wasn’t really sure what he was going to say as he opened the door but was a little startled to see a woman standing at the counter paying. Ian had his chin in his hand, looking bored. He looked up abruptly when Mickey walked in.

“Ya got any Slim Jims in this shithole?” Mickey asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

The lady at the counter picked up her bag and purse and walked past him and out the door.

Ian’s expression, Mickey thought, was barely readable, and in a panicked moment it occurred to Mickey that Ian might not want him here. Maybe Ian hadn’t said anything to Mandy because he regretted what happened.

 _So what?_ Mickey thought. _Good. That’s what you want. You want him to forget all about it._  

Ian stood up and walked towards the door and locked it, and Mickey found himself catching a relieved breath.

“Yep, in the back room,” Ian finally replied, walking to the back of the store, indicating Mickey should follow.

Mickey had to bite his lip to keep from smiling as he followed the red head to the back of the store. He started to take off his scarf from around his throat and watched as Ian shrugged off his shirt. As soon as they got to the back, behind the milk racks, Ian pushed Mickey backwards, undoing his pants for him, and Mickey had to catch his balance before he toppled over into a rack of canned pop.

“There’s cameras out there,” Ian said hurriedly, as if explaining why they weren’t screwing in the middle of a fuckin’ store (which Mickey thought didn’t really require an explanation).

Ian spun Mickey around and bent him over slightly. “I’m glad you came,” Ian whispered shyly, by Mickey’s ear, which Mickey found incongruous with the fact that Ian was also manhandling him.

“Look. If I wanted to chit-chat, I’d fuck a girl,” Mickey hissed back.

If Ian was offended, he didn’t show it. He pulled some lube from the behind the rack and squirted some in his hand. Mickey started to wonder why there was lube hidden in the milk racks of the Kash and Grab but was quickly cut off, by Ian sticking a finger inside him. Mickey inhaled sharply at the cold, but then let out a soft groan as Ian started to work his finger, and then another.

Every fear and anxiety Mickey had had for the past two days seemed to melt away. In the backs of his mind he new he should be worried about Terry, but as Ian exchanged his fingers for his dick, Mickey was having trouble remembering why. He knew he shouldn’t be here – knew that this was wrong and unnatural, but, in the spirit of total irony, for the first time in his recollection, Mickey felt safe.

Mickey wasn’t exactly sure how long they had been fucking because he wasn’t keeping track, but unlike when Mandy had come home and interrupted them the first time, Mickey actually finished. Ian followed suit shortly after and pulled out.

Mickey turned around to face Ian and the boys stood there, behind the milk, out of breath.

Ian turned around first, pulling on his pants and then his shirts. It was Mickey’s turn to get dressed slowly this time. Now that they were done, Mickey felt all the fears that had been festering over the past couple days bubbling back up to the surface.

“Look,” he finally whispered, zipping his hoodie back up and pulling his jacket back on. “If you tell-”

“I can keep a secret,” Ian cut him off quickly. His face, which was usually split in a big grin, was serious, as if to reflect that he understood the severity of the situation.

He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but the tightness in Mickey’s chest got looser and it got easier to breath. He couldn’t exactly put into words why Ian’s confidence brought him comfort, but the “me against the world” feeling he had been carrying for two days (or seventeen years, depending how you slice it) felt a little less lonely.

Mickey gave a quick nod but avoided eye contact by picking his scarf up off the floor. Ian walked past him and back to the front of the store. He unlocked the door, and Mickey walked out, throwing his scarf over his head.

“So, guess this was like a booty call, huh?” Ian asked, leading Mickey out and leaning against the side of the building. His tone was almost hopeful, and his signature grin was back.

“Whatever. See ya,” Mickey responded, walking away and not looking back.

 

* * *

  

By the next morning Mickey was feeling significantly less on edge. Before noon he had already collected on some Special K he had sold to a couple fifteen-year-olds; stolen a Big Gulp from the gas station on 7th; and busted into a mailbox a couple streets away, where he had found a few bill payments filled with cash. Any residual nerves about Gallagher blabbing about what had happened were gone, and Mickey was able to once again focus on what really mattered.

Mickey walked up to his front door and could hear his sister’s voice giggling inside. She had been giggling a lot lately, and Mickey found it slightly unnerving. She had never really been the giggling type.

“I’m telling you, it’s _right_.”

“Okay,” he heard a voice laugh in response, and upon opening the front door realized it was Ian.

Mickey tensed instinctively when he saw Gallagher sitting on his couch, with Mandy’s legs across his lap, but was pleased to realize that he remained calm. The brief conversation they had had yesterday had succeeded in easing Mickey’s mind, and he was pretty confident that Ian understood the harshness of the situation.

Both his sister and her boyfriend looked up at Mickey as he slammed the front door behind him and let out a belch. He paused for a second to turn towards them.

“Douchebags,” he greeted before turning back towards his room.

“Assface,” he heard Mandy respond before he shut his door.

 _Very cool_ , he thought to himself with a grin. _You played that very cool. No one would have guessed you were hiding in your room like a little bitch two days ago because of that kid_. He threw the cash he had collected on his couch and lay down on his bed, feeling pretty proud of himself. All that anxiety he had felt was for nothing.

Suddenly he heard his door open and he was shaken from his thoughts. He looked up to see Ian Gallagher shutting the door firmly and walking over to Mickey’s bed, with a big grin on his face.

“Gallagher, what the fuck are you doing?” Mickey hissed, trying to strike a happy balance between “quiet enough that Mandy won’t hear” and “angry enough that this kid gets the fucking point”.

The grin didn’t leave Ian’s face as he started to pull his sweatshirt off.

“Shhh, shut up,” the ginger whispered back, climbing on the end of Mickey’s bed.

Mickey pulled a face, taken aback. Did this kid seriously just tell him to shut up? Who the fuck did he think he was?

“The fuck you think this is?” Mickey asked, bewildered. He tried to keep his voice angry, but he was a little caught off guard by the entire situation.

Ian had crawled across the bed and started pulling at Mickey’s fly. He paused and looked up, still grinning.

“A booty call.”

 

* * *

 

  

Ian got up and got dressed wordlessly, facing away from Mickey, who was still out of breath lying on his bed.

“Mandy’s making pizza bagels,” Ian said quietly and grinned over his shoulder at Mickey. Without waiting for a response, he walked out the door.

Mickey sat up in bed, staring at his closed door. He wasn’t exactly sure what had just happened. Fuck, he wasn’t exactly sure what had happened over the past week. It was like he had lost all command over his body – like someone else was working the controls. He felt a little like he was in a car with the brakes cut and everything was moving too fast and he was gonna crash soon, but he was pretty sure if he tried to slow down or stop he’d crash just as quickly.

 _It’s just sex. It’s meaningless and fun and if you don’t think too hard about it, it’s not gay, because **you aren’t gay**_ , he told himself, pulling his clothes back on.

He grabbed his Big Gulp and followed Ian out of his bedroom, not able to stop himself, but not really trying that hard either.

Ian had already sat back down on the couch with Mandy and they were playing some video game. He smiled when he saw Mickey, but quickly turned his eyes back to the TV and bit his bottom lip. Mickey grabbed a pizza bagel and sat down next to him on the couch.

“Shove over, faggots,” Mickey demanded, putting the whole mini bagel into his mouth and throwing his feet up on the table. He grabbed the controller out of Ian’s hands. “Watch and learn.”

Gallagher sat in between Mickey and his sister, and Mickey could tell he was trying hard not to smile. He kept stealing quick glances to his right when Mandy wasn’t looking and looked like he was going to goddamn Disneyland.

The couch wasn’t designed for three people, and they were all pretty squished.

“Mickey, go sit in the chair,” Mandy scowled, when Ian’s arm bumped into her and made her miss her shot.

“Fuck you, you go sit in the chair,” Mickey grumbled back not looking up from kicking her ass in the game. Ian said nothing, but Mickey could feel the sunshine grin fuckin’ radiating at the side of his face. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to move, but feeling Ian’s leg and arm pressed against his, made his skin prick in a good way. He shook the thought from his head quickly, because it was super fuckin’ faggy.

 _It’s just sex_ , he reminded himself. _It’s meaningless and fun and if you don’t think too hard about it, it’s not gay._

**Author's Note:**

> Again, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my stories. It really means a lot, and every time I see a notification it makes my day.
> 
> I have some exciting things in the works for future chapters, and I can't wait to share them. I will try to continue posting weekly. Please feel free to comment, I read them all and they make me smile :)


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